FIFTEEN YEARS
by sillym3
Summary: She doesn't turn back and I'm afraid that she'll never turn back for the rest of my life. I’m sixty eight years old now; there are not too many things in my life that can be dealt with sarcasm, humor and wit anymore.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the main character within this fic. I only claim the plot and the craziness of my muse:)**

A/N: This is my first attempt on House M.D fic. I'm sorry if I crossed the in-character line or if I made spelling or grammar errors. English is not my first language and I worked with no Beta.

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**=== FIFTEEN YEARS ===**

She is giving a lecture on _immunodeficiency_ diseases in front of approximately fifty graduate program students. Her hair is in its natural color, the same color I see the first time we met. Her body is not as slim as I remember, but it's still a little breathtaking to see her movement as she moves closer to one of the display. I recognize the display as a _thyroid_ with cancer. Good boy, I proudly praise myself; I still get the kick on this medical thing.

The lecture takes another hour before she ends it with a smile and a promise to see the students again next week. I stay still on my spot, waiting for her to acknowledge me. It won't be hard to notice me among the in-haste students with all their laptops, bags, and books.

She gasps, inaudible but visible to my eyes. I count to ten before she moves toward me. Half smile and hesitate eyes greet me first before she comes near enough to my side.

"You look old and wrinkly," I say something first because I can't bear to hear her say something about long time, how am I doing, or what happened or something else as cheesy as those.

"Nice to meet you too Doctor House," Her smile is everything but mockery but I can't help myself from my snarl.

"Save the title Cameron, I'm not a doctor anymore." I roll my eyes and start to move toward the door. The corner of my eye catches her hands that trying to help me push the wheel chair. I snarl again, "I can move these wheels on my own woman! You don't have to pretend that you care."

"Wow," She lifts her hands up, "Ten minutes of your sudden visit and I'm already a pretender. Nice diagnosis Ex Doctor House."

I bit my smile at her remark. She doesn't forget how to deal with me yet. She lets me wheel myself all the way trough the hall as she being greeted by several students and colleague. She says nothing as I make my way outside the building. She even stays silent when I make a stop near a Hotdog stand and order a huge chili-dog.

I wait for her to ask something or say something or do something as she always did when we're still working at Princeton Plainsboro. Allison Cameron that I knew has this vigorous intensity of asking and prodding until someone react to her but this Allison Cameron that stand beside me is too placid and too calm that she frightens me.

"How are your boring husband and your boring kids?" God, I can't believe I fall to this boring conversation opening.

"They're fine." She shoves one hand to the pocket of her blue blazer while the other brushes a strand of hair from her face. Her eyes scan around the small park. Someone who is sitting on a bench waves to her and she waves back. The sounds of me biting and munching the spicy meat are the only activities around us for nearly ten minutes.

"Go on! Ask!" I encourage her to end damned stillness.

"Ask what?" She looks up to the blue morning sky above us.

"I don't know, how I ended up with this wheelie things maybe." I shrug and throw the hotdog wrap to the ground. She bends down to pick it and throws it properly into a garbage bin near the hotdog stand.

"Will you answer me with the truth if I ask?" She leans to the railing behind us and exhales deeply.

"I will, to prove it I'll answer it right now." I flex my hands and look up to her. "In one of my trekking to Himalaya, a stupid beginner climb before me, slipped on his heel and landed on top of me with his fifty pounds luggage. My already limp leg was broken in three places, and I somehow unabled to walk since then." My eyes meet her eyes and a flicker of worry in them lit up my ability to form the next sentence. "Now that I've told you my sad story, can I cry in your arms?"

"Please," I hold out my hands to her and purse my lips suitably. I do not expect her to hug me but she does. Her arms around my shoulder and her body hover over my wheel chair. It's only last for a mere second, though. She straightens herself up and pats me in the back.

"I'm sorry for your misery House, but why are you here?"

"I want to compares the number of your wrinkles with mine." She doesn't have any wrinkle yet. fifteen years almost did nothing to her complexion; her skin still looks as smooth as fifteen years ago. I just want to make her snap at me.

"I need to pick up my daughter in an hour House," She gives her wristwatch a glance.

"Tell Chase to do it. Threat him with the possibility of no nookies for tonight if he says he can't. That's what wives usually do to husband right?"

She sighs, "Chase is in Sydney."

"Wow, was it a divorce that I missed?" I wheel myself close to her. "Does this mean I still have the chance?" The mockery in my tone better shield the genuineness in my question or I never use it again.

"Why are you here House?" She sighs deeper but I refuse to surrender.

"I want to know your daughter better before we become a family." I try to look straight-faced while rolling the wheels back and forth as a trick to annoy her.

The trick doesn't work or maybe it works too damn well. She slings her purse to her shoulder and moves toward the parking lot. "Nice to meet you again House."

"Come on Cameron, you're an old woman with no fun." The hotdog guy glares at my shout. Maybe he has a thing for Cameron.

She doesn't turn back and I'm afraid that she'll never turn back for the rest of my life. I'm sixty eight years old now; there are not too many things in my life that can be dealt with sarcasm, humor and wit anymore. Cameron is one of the rare people who understands me or at least never stop to try.

"Hey Cameron, You're leaving a poor disabled Grandpa here." I try again.

She doesn't even stop her stride.

"Allison, I'm dying!"

She stops abruptly as if there's a wall in front of her.

"Help me please, I'm dying" I, Gregory House, truly beg. The helpless sound of me sounds so helpless even in my ear.

She turns around and I believe if I'm the main character of my favorite soap opera I'd be crying.

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**TBC**  
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So, is it worth to be a multi-chaptered fic?  
Thank you for reading and please tell me what you think:)  
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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: please refer to previous chapter.

A/N: On with my poor attempt to invading this fandom. If I wrote the details wrong (e.g age difference, the disease description, or anything) feel free to correct me:)

**===chapter 2===**

Allison Cameron, with all her grace and beauty, takes a sip from her coffee cup. I observe her cautiously. In her fifty, she looks so mature and steady that I miss the edginess that was hers.

"So," She leans back to the booth. We've decided, or should I say she insisted, to bring our conversation to the nearest café we could find around the University. "What's this sudden I'm dying thing about? Is it a new way to re-acquaintance with a long forgotten friend? "

I countinue to munch my strawberry pie and answer her with a shrug. "Is that what we are, a long forgotten friend? I thought I'm the dirty doctor and you're the kinky nurse"

"You're never dirty enough for me and I'm far too kinky for you" There, the agitated voice that I miss from her. "Spill it out House, I know you want to."

I empty my coffee cup before look up to her. "I have brain disease."

She does nothing but blinks. "I bet it has something to do with your Vicodins or your eating habit." She eyes the plates in front of me, strawberry pie and waffles and two cupcakes.

"I'm not a fifty years old skinny supermodel wanna be," I scowl at her. "I'm about to die anytime soon. I'd rather die with full stomach."

She sighs for the umpteenth times this day. "What kind of disease is this?"

"_Creutzfeld-Jakob_." I keep my reply dry to match my feeling toward the freaking disease.

I also keep myself busy eating the cupcake when she gasps. "House, that's untreatable."

"Geez, why did you think I keep saying that I'm dying? I might lost my practice license but I still have the whole M.D here," I knock my temple with my knuckle.

"The wheel chair?" she points at my constant companion for the last three months.

"Yes. I did go to Himalayas after the S.O.B judges banned me from using my super medical smartness but the wheelie is because I completely loose the ability to walk after the first strike." I glance at the other cupcake, suddenly loose my appetite. "Don't tell anybody though. The Himalayan verse works best to attracts girls."

It's like the whole café frozen in time when she throws a disbelieving look at me. I look back at her unblinking, letting her know that I'm not lying. The silent spell breaks itself in her resonance of concern, "House that's a fatal disease. I can't help you but I can connect you with this Neurologist in Cedar Sinai, He's Foreman's friend, the best on this….." I stop her hand from frantically reaching into her purse, probably searching for name card or something.

"I'm dying Cameron. Even if you can find a Doctor as smart as me, that I'm sure you can't, you still can't help me." I raise my hand to the waitress, order a milkshake, and leave a comment about her pert ass. "There are just too many holes in my brain."

We speak nothing while I'm slurping the milkshake. She probably is contemplating on my disease while I'm contemplating on the very reason I'm here.

The occasional _dementia_ and _myoclonus _were my first symptom but as usual I ignored it, blaming the fatigues from my runaway trips around the world. I was in Tibet the day I got the first seizure strike. I don't remember any of it but my guide said that I experienced one hell of a seizure that freaked her out (Yes my guide was a she, how could you expect anything else from me). I went into coma for a day and woke up as a disabled person. From there many symptoms, both physical and psychological, have appeared. Against my ego I checked myself to one of the neurologists in San Francisco. I even went so far to agreeing a risky brain biopsy just to convince myself that I really am dying. After grueling denials and tons of Vicodin, I canceled my trip plans and decided that I'll die in my hometown. Cheesy decision isn't it? I guess the disease has impaired my judgment.

I actually enjoy dying alone. Stay in my bed, play my guitar, watch TV and shout to the nurse I've hired to treat me are amusing. I don't want and don't need any reminder of how old I'm or how progressive the disease on eating my brain or the fact that might be no one will miss me when I'm gone. Drugs and entertainment was enough until the day my second seizure came. I don't know if it was my hallucinations or something mellow inside of me decided to poke into the surface. I saw Cameron, Cuddy, Wilson, Foreman and even the ugly wombat Chase sitting beside my bed. They were talking to each other and ignoring me while I was in total pain. When I woke up from the strike I knew that I couldn't leave this cruel but entertaining world without harassing my old friends first, or without seeing them for the last time if you like the sentimental reason best.

"How long?" Cameron finally breaks the silence.

"I don't know, I didn't ask the neurologist how much time left, if that's what you mean. I couldn't bear hearing him saying that I'll miss the next season of my Soap opera. Things just get interesting in Road to Heaven." I mention one of my favorite shows, which I think Cameron never watches. "The sexy protagonist, Mary Anne, was raped and I've read the spoiler board saying that she'll have triplets next season. The producer even has this..." Cameron hand brushes against mine in a soft touch and I can't do nothing but stop my rant.

"You look fine, I mean beside the wheel chair you just as jerky and as ..." she stops and looks away from me.

"Damnit Cameron, don't go all soapy on me." I put my left hand on the table showing her my trembling fingers. "If I don't take enough drugs I'll get these massive _myoclonus_ and hallucinations. I even thought I see Kutner and Foreman did ridiculous belly dancing in my parents yard last week."

She cringes but stay in silent again for a while. "So, you come back to your parents' house then?" Her hand rising as she asks the waitress to refilled his cup.

"Yeah, I have this strategic plan of dying in a cheap way."

"And if you're being so acceptable about dying why did you ask me for help?" The ever-curious woman she is, always want to know my motive.

I shrug "I need someone to be harassed."

"Or you just don't want to die alone. Either ways, I don't want to be the object or your deportment" She empties her cup right before something inside her purse ring off. Produces a cell-phone out of the purse she checks the ID and smiles as she answers the call.

"Hi," She smiles again; the ridiculous smile people show when they're speaking to the people they love, miss, like, or whatever. "No. I do not forget. I just got distracted. I'll pick her up in a moment." She waits while the other person speaks. "Well, of course she'd call you." She waits again before saying, "What can I do, she is daddy's little girl. I'll talk to you later okay." She clips to phone shut and stares at me. "Which hotel are you checking in? Maybe I can drive you off."

"Was that your daughter calling?" I already know the answer to my question but I ask anyway, hoping for the best.

"No. It was Chase. Hotel name please? Or you'd rather get there on your own wheels?" Standing and shoving a crisp bill under the coffee cup, she takes her keys out.

I frown, it was Chase, and she smiled to hear his voice? I suddenly fall on a mission. Harass Cameron before I die aside, the current state of her and the Blondie wombat relationship seems interesting.

"What? You don't want to take me to your house? Treat me while I'm dying! Crying beside my bed! Let me know little Allison a little better?" Leave it to me to draw attention. Other occupants of the cafe start looking at us. I'm sure I'm not imagining the jolts of annoyance in Cameron's eyes.

With determination she takes a step away, "You tell me or you get back on your own, I have a daughter that I need to pick up."

"Fine, Omni New Haven Hotel, offers luxury in a casual atmosphere with 306 rooms spread over 19 floors." I sneer at her. "I've booked a room for the whole week. It has this large bouncy bed that we can trash on every night. Care to bounce on it with me tonight?" My suggestive look was lethal when I was forty something; right now I think it only gives me a weird impression of a Grandpa trying too hard.

Cameron looks back to me, raising an eyebrow. "Really House? With that wheel chair and your age, I doubt you can even get to the second base."

I'm in the middle of arranging a smart retort when this familiar tightening rises in my chest. I gasp for air only to be choked by it. I blink once, twice, but my whole vision is blurring.

"House!"

My left hand is trembling massively when I feel Cameron's hand on it. "I…., Cam…..," It's hard to say something but I need to say something, i need to do something, before this fucking disease takes away all my memory and ability.

"House! Help! Call an ambulance!" Cameron's words swirling inside my ears before darkness engulfing me.

TBC

A/N2 : _Creutzfeldt-Jakob_ disease (CJD) is a rare, degenerative, invariably fatal brain disorder, characterized by rapidly progressive _dementia_. Initially, patients experience problems with muscular coordination; personality changes, including impaired memory, judgment, and thinking; and impaired vision. People with the disease also may experience insomnia, depression, or unusual sensations. They also often develop involuntary muscle jerks called _Myoclonus_.

Thanks for reading, I hope it's still worth to be continued, and leave me your review please:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Please refer to chapter one.

**A/N:** I'm not familiar with U.S Medical-Malpractice law and trial (hell, I'm not even familiar enough with the characters). So, if I wrote any detail wrong, Throw me a hint and I'll try my best to fix it:)

_To Di, a friend who listens, even when her ears are already allergic to my rant:)_

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**===chapter 3===**

_I'm in the middle of this freaking court hall again. The hard floor under my feet and high ceiling above my head are too familiar that I hate them. Wait, feet? Am I standing? Yep, I'm standing. Maybe my second seizure has brought back my ability to walk. Cool isn't it? Who knows what my third seizure may bring? I might grow a third leg or something._

_This is definitely not the best place to be if you just wake up from one hell of a seizure. The walls are too brown that they're boring, and the ceilings are so yellow, that I feel like I'm standing with a large chunk of cheese above me. I'd rather wake up in a bed, with Cameron embrace around me or Cuddy's set of pert twins hover over me. I even will accept waking up in hell, with she-devils, clad in bikinis, whipping my rear end. This court hall is far cry from my favorite place._

_I look around and see swarms of people scatter around the room. Judging from their outfit and gadget, I'm pretty sure most of them are from the press. I recognize Eva Chapman from Local News, she is interviewing Judy Lynch and her lawyers. Wait, if Eva is as young as that, and Judy is still as ugly as that. Am I back to the past, a part of my past that I hate the most? I come closer to them to confirm my suspicion._

"_So Mrs. Lynch, How do you feel about the result of this trial?" Eva vigorously shoves her breasts towards the camera._

"_It's a Miss not Mrs." Judy answers her between sobs. For crying out loud, this woman didn't cry when I told her about her daughter's paralysis. Now, she's crying for a stupid reason in front of a stupid camera after a stupid question from a stupid reporter. I'd puke on my T-shirt if it's not my favorite white T-shirt._

"_Banning Doctor House from practicing his medical knowledge for five years won't bring little Elizabeth back to a healthy girl she used to be." Judy's short but slick and sneaky bald lawyer answers the stupid question with sad eyes, Not that I believe he truly feels sad right now. He'll probably get more than 10% from the total amount of material compensation. Material Compensation that Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital has to give to Judy due to my mistake. No, not mistake, my misjudgment and my curiosity sound better._

"_This is a warning for every mother out there. Don't just trust every Doctor and every Hospital. My beautiful and innocence Lizzy has lost her future. Don't let your children loses theirs." Judy's eyes are puffy and red but full of awareness. The awareness I didn't see when she was in the hospital with her daughter a couple months ago. The awareness I didn't see when I left her in Hospital lobby to biopsy Lizzy's brain without her permission. I wonder how she managed to stop using cocaine._

"_How about the material compensation, the judges ordered Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital to pay total amount of one hundred thousands dollars along with lifetime health-care support for Elizabeth, do you think that amount reasonable?" Eva shoves her lips forward this time, but her breasts do not really go M.I.A._

"_I don't care about money. I just glad to know there's a justice for my Lizzy." Judy purses her lips._

"_Come on you Liar!" I can't help myself but scream to her, but no one seems to notice me. "Tell them you'll use the money to get yourself more cracks. Tell them you'll talk in Oprah. Tell them you didn't care about your daughter until this slick materialistic S.O.B lawyer found you a reason to." I scowl and close my eyes, try to wake up in another place._

_When I open my eyes again, I'm already in a lift. This lift is all too familiar as well. Through my malpractice trial, I probably used it more than a hundreds times. The damned crammed box of court lift._

"_House! Wait!" Cuddy's voice drifts to my ears. I snap my head to look up. The sexy but annoying Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital's dean of medicine is striding toward me. I feel some kind of deja vu, I've been in the same situation before and I dread things that will come after this._

_She pries the slightly ajar lift's door open and forces herself in before I have a chance to hit the button._

"_House!" Cuddy is panting beside me. "How could you just confess like that? After weeks of trial! You might as well tell the juries we shot the girl in her heart!"_

"_I'm telling the truth Cuddy," I give her a shrug. "I couldn't lie under oath. I'm a man of honesty. You should not expect less from me" Feigning a sad face, I hit the button for the basement._

_Still panting, Cuddy corners me. "Honesty my ass! Did you aware of the effect before you spill your so called truth?" Her breaths fan my face and suddenly the memory of our intimacy a couple days ago washes my mind. I can't stop my hand from drifting to her waist, I can't stop myself from inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume._

"_Sweetheart if you want to finish what we haven't last weekend, why don't we find a more comfortable place." I wriggle my eyebrow, completely aware that she'll snap at my comment._

_She doesn't snap. To my surprise, She takes a step back and I hear her mumble something about me being an ass._

_I chuckle "Munchkin, don't you whisper like that. You know I like it aloud." _

"_Our lawyers said that we almost win this House!" Cuddy's sigh is so deep that I can feel her anger and disappointment in the air. "The juries were sidetracked by the mother's crime records and her addiction to drugs and cocaine. We had this in our palm. Even if Judy Lynch win, we could minimize the compensation and you wouldn't loose your license."_

"_It's okay. I can really use five years vacation from dying patients anyway." It's true; I never regret loosing five years of my career. After the sentenced five years over, I didn't even take the re-evaluation to gain back my license. I lost my will to be a doctor the day the biopsy of Lizzy's brain showed no sign of **Spongiform**. I even sometimes think that I lost myself and my sanity in that very day. _

"_God," Cuddy takes a step back and leans onto the rail. "You think this is all about you, don't you?" she covers her face with her hands._

"_Well, I've confessed that I did the biopsy without permission. I've confessed that I did it to proof my sole theory that the girl had an early **Creutzfeldt-Jakob**. I've confessed that she died because of me. I've confessed that I failed to proof my theory. I'm the entire subject here. It is about me" I try to sound calm even when my heart goes a mile a minute._

"_It's not House, It's not." She shakes her head, the curls bounce on her shoulder as she does so. "The judge fined the hospital one hundred thousand dollars for negligence."_

"_Geez, I can buy a boatload of Vicodin with that." _

"_The Hospital boards called me, questioning me for this mess. I might lose my job" She looks up to the ceiling. It's hard to admit, but it's hurt me to see her sad eyes._

"_You'll get a better one." _

"_The Hospital credibility is on the ground. Every Doctor in Princeton-Plainsboro will be affected."_

_I shrug, "It's not my business."_

"_Wilson, Chase, Kutner, Hadley, Taub, Foreman." She recites their name as if she wants to hammers me with guilt._

"_Thing that doesn't kill you will make you strong." I look up to, I don't know that the ceiling can be so interesting when you're under pressure._

"_Cameron," the name slips out of her lips like a spell and her eyes meet mine. "Elizabeth was her patient before you take the case. She'll be affected more than others."_

_I look away; try to look unaffected by Cuddy's words._

_She uses her soft fingers to cup my chin and force me to look at her. "Tell me that Cameron is not your business."_

_The depth of Cuddy's request overwhelms me. This is not just about the trial. This also about us; our fragile on and off relationship that has been built above more fragile foundation. She has asked the same question before, curious if I still hold on to my feeling toward the immunologist. I sigh; I can't tell Cuddy that Cameron isn't my business. I can't comfort Cuddy with the promise that my heart is completely hers. No matter how much I love Lisa Cuddy, no matter how many times we've spent together. A part of my heart will always belong to one Allison Cameron. _

"_Right," She nods mournfully as the door opens with a ding. "I hope your decision will make you happy Greg." She leaves, with my first-name escaping her lips. The name she only uses to call me only when we're alone, in bed. I close my eyes fiercely. Please, take me, anywhere but here, anytime but now, anything but this._

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My eyelids are heavy and after grueling efforts to open them, I only see a blurry image of someone hover over me. Machines are beeping inside the room and thumbs of heartbeat are echoing in my ears. Great, I'm back to the present. Wake up from the silly nightmare to another nightmare, hospital bed.

"Hi," the voice, I know whose voice it is, if only my brain can form a name. I blink, it's still blurry. I blink again, and pair of warm eyes smile to me.

"Hi to you too." My raspy voice comes out in a whisper.

TBC.

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_**Spongiform**_ _refers to the characteristic appearance of infected brains, which become filled with holes until they resemble sponges under a microscope._

Can you guess who was beside House's bed when He woke up from his second seizure? Cupcake for the right answer:)

Thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Please refer to chapter one.

**A/N:** I wrote this before Kutner's suicide episode. So He's in here, alive:) Consider this as my tribute to him. Enjoy and I'm sorry for the delay.

**=== chapter 4 ===**

"It's been a long time," the lines on her forehead and light wrinkles at the corner of her eyes overwhelm me. She's definitely aging but she's still Cuddy, with her soft fingers entwine with mine.

"Not really," I blink again, "I see you every weekend, I google you whenever I need a release."

She smiles and let go of her hold, using the newly freed hand to props her chin. "Old, dying and still a jerk."

"Old, wrinkly, and still have those two evil twins." I glance at her cleavage while trying to prop my self up. I push with my right hand but it's lifeless. I try to flex the fingers and they're not even move. I sigh while slumping back to the pillows.

"Your right extremities are affected by the seizure." She explains.

"I know," I close my eyes shut, an attempt to hide my distress. "How long? Where am I?"

"You've been unconscious for twelve hours. Yale-New Haven Hospital"

"Why are you here? Don't you have a little hospital to run in Michigan?" I keep my eyes un-open.

"Well, if you don't want me to be here. I can leave, I still can catch the night flight," She stands up as I open my eyes.

I hold her wrist, my weak hand keep her still. "Don't be an over sensitive Grandma." I tug to make her sits back on the seat. "I meant, who had told you?"

She looks away, "Obviously Cameron. She told me that she lets everybody knows."

I look over to spot Cameron, but she's not in the room.

As if she can read my mind, Cuddy smiles, "Don't worry she'll be back tomorrow. Cameron has kids to take care of. In the mean time you can harass Foreman and the gang; They'll be here any minute."

"O... goody... goody, "The prospect of harassing my "friends" again suddenly loses its appeal to me. If Cameron really calls everyone, if they are really coming, I don't think I know how they will react to me. After the trial, I simply cut loose every relationship I had. I even succeeded to completely ignore Wilson after the first two years.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her question floats in the air, competing with the machine's sounds.

"About what? About this?" I gesture to my body. "I thought you want to know nothing about me."

"You are the one who want me to know nothing about you," She punctuates her first word with an accusing look. "You are the one who went missing and didn't reply to any effort to contact you."

I shrug, avoiding telling the truth. The truth is that I actually feel guilty about my act. The truth is, that I was running away so I didn't have to face her and Wilson and Cameron and everyone else. It's bad enough that I have to lose my practice license. It's bad enough that I have to pay that freaking drugs addict a ridiculous amount of money for her daughter that she doesn't love. I didn't want to hurt myself by lingering around the ground zero, around the people who were affected by my bombshell of malpractice.

Probably starts to feel uncomfortable with my silence, Cuddy lets her guard down. "It doesn't matter anymore. Cameron told me that you're saying our name while you're unconscious. Finally tired running away and missing us huh?".

I growl at her mockery. "I miss you the most Cuddy. Never know how I managed without your cleavage."

She chuckles; the voice is ringing in the room and vibrating in my heart. "Glad to know I still have an attractive point."

"Two attractive points," I gracefully correct her.

Although I know the words that about come out from my lips are probably the result of my impair judgment; the symptom of my disease. I try to say it earnestly. "I'm sorry Lisa."

She falls into silence for a fleeting moment.

"Wow, how many holes you need in your brain to say that?" She shakes her head; a tendril of hair touches her brow.

"I'm sorry I left you with no words after the trial. I'm sorry I ignored you. I'm sorry you lost your job. I'm sorry I messed up the trial. I'm sorry." The world seems to slows down with my every word. She looks at me in haze and her lips slightly part.

"House..." Her hand hovers over my body as if trying to find a support. I neverknow that my words can shake her world like this. I should've said sorry before, just to see if Cuddy could pass out over it.

"Now that I've said sorry and we're good. May I snuggle up between the twins?" I swat her hand away and point at the top opening on her red blouse. "You should buy a shirt that has more buttons."

At the end of my line, familiar faces start poking into the room. Foreman is pushing himself in with Kutner and Taub in tow.

"Whose shirt has no buttons?" Kutner raises an eyebrow, tiptoeing to peek over Cuddy's Jacket. I glare at him, how could he gets all the fun while I'm literally tying to my bed.

"You definitely didn't need to be afraid of turning into me Foreman," I drive my attention to Foreman; he's standing on the corner, shoves his hands to his pockets. "I don't have any pot belly." I gesture at his lower abdomen. Fifteen years have brought Foreman so much. His body has expanded horizontally, he grows gray hair above his upper lip, his eyes sagging and his forehead wrinkles so much I'm sure it hurts.

"I can't believe I said yes when Cameron ask me to come here." Foreman says the word ruefully.

"It's kinda good to see him helpless." Taub chimes in just to earn himself a glare from Cuddy. "Come on, how often we can see the self-righteous House can do nothing but whining on his bed." He shrugs at Cuddy.

"Yeah Cuddy, this moment is as rare as Taub's hair." I bite back, eliciting chuckles from Kutner. "It also as rare as your opportunity to nail a girl with that grissly beard Kutner! So stop laughing." I add for a good measure. Kutner reaches for his beard and frowns at me.

"He's definitely not dying if he could say something like that." Foreman turns around, "We are wasting time here. We better head back to the lab." He nods toward Kutner and Taub.

I grin manically,"Wait, don't leave me here. Take me to your threesome party."

Kutner and Taub are leaving, completely ignoring my words. However, Foreman stops at the doorway and look back at me. "Good luck House."

It tooks me a full second before replying. "Thank you. You did a great job with the Huntington's cures."

"It wasn't only me; Kutner and Taub helped a lot with the research." He shrugs and exiting the room before saying "and it's not great enough to save the person I need to save."

The images of one Remy Hadley pass in my mind. Too bad she has died before Foreman found the cure. It will be fun if she's here to be the object of my tease.

"Well, that was fun." I look back at Cuddy. "Where are Wilson and Chase? I thought you said Cameron tells everybody."

"What? House... Wilson.... You didn't know.... We've sent you....," surprise and hesitation In Cuddy eyes startle me. "You don't know do you?" she whispers and looks away.

"What happened? Is Wilson...," I stop mid-sentence, unable to form the words for my terrible thought.

"He passed away three years ago House." Cuddy's trembling voice struck me like a lightning.

"How... I...," I lost my words again. My mind drifts to the last e-mail from him. The last e-mail I read, because I know he'd sent me thousands more. It said something about my guitar and how he'd like to invite me to his fourth wedding.

"Para-sailing accident. After his son's death he started to be a daredevil of his own"

I close my eyes. I didn't even know he has a son. I chuckle morbidly, "It's so Un-Wilson to die over a sport. Who was he married to anyway? Was it the show-girl with breast cancer?" I recall one of Wilson's e-mails told me about his latest girlfriend.

"He married to me House." Cuddy's tone is calm against my racing heartbeat. Despite myself, I start to laugh. Wilson and Cuddy? Come on, she knows I won't fall for that.

After a moment, I stop laughing. "You did marry with him, didn't you?"

She nods, and I feel like the whole room spinning. It's only fifteen years for God sake. It's not long enough for me to lose my best friend without goodbye, to miss his wedding with a woman I love. Wilson should be here, saying something stupid but true about me. Cuddy shouldn't get married with him. She should be as miserable and as lonely as I am. Cameron too, she should stay here, not tucking Wombat's spawns to sleep. Everyone should be as miserable as me. No one should move on without me.

I laugh again, this time my heart hurt with every sound I make. "What? You couldn't find someone better than me?" I curl to my side and laugh as loud as I could, hide the tears that start to fall in steady stream. "Wilson... come on Cuddy he's far worst than me." I'm giggling and crying so hard that my chest's heaving.

"He's the best relationship I ever had." Her statement is punctuated by a kiss on my cheek "You need to rest House. I need to get back to Michigan tomorrow, but I'll visit you again."

Her footsteps echoing in my ear, long after she leaves, even follow me into my dream

TBC

The next will be the last chapter. Reviews are appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** : refer to the first chapter please

**A/N** : This is the end, I present this for the reviewers, and people who put this in their story alert or add this as their favorite. Thank you so much, the fact that people actually read this fic encourages me to write more.

**A/N2**: I owe the last two chapters to SylvieT, her encouragements have brought sunshine to a beginner/foreigner like me.

**=== Chapter 5 ===**

"You knew it, didn't you? That's why you left fifteen years ago?" Her face hovers over mine, her hands prop her chin, and a strand of her silky hair falls to her shoulder. She is one Allison Cameron, beautiful, as always.

"I knew you and Chase did it in Cuddy's office once, but that wasn't the reason I left." I yawn, my sleep wasn't comfortable. I kept on dreaming Wilson's face and kept on wake up with a start. The storm that came last night didn't make my sleep any better.

"You knew you have _Creutzfeldt-Jakob_, that's why you left." She doesn't change her position, keep on hovering over me.

"I know you miss me but can you move over a little bit," I enjoy our closeness, I always do. It just the intense stare of her eyes that bothers me.

"Was that the reason why you insisted biopsy on Elizabeth? Did you think if she has _Creutzfeldt-Jakob _then somehow you can find a way to cure yourself?"

I look up to her, challenging her eyes with mine. "Those things aren't your business."

"This is maybe your last time to say something true House, to confess and to be honest."

A flicker of sadness pulses in her eyes when the words stumble out from her mouth. I gulp, feeling my lips stick to one another. She's right; these days are probably my last days.

I motion for a cup of juice that's standing on the bedside table. She hands it carefully, eyes still nailing to mine.

The first imbibe of the juice nearly washes the truth from the tip of my tongue. "She… Elizabeth has the same early symptom with me, _dementia_." I twirl the cup with my fingers. "It was just an insight; I was thinking if she really has _Creutzfeldt-Jakob_, We, Me, would have time to save her."

The fact is I ended up turning the girl into nothing but vegetable in bed. Maybe I was afraid that I would end up like her. Maybe I felt guilty. Maybe I was afraid that I would hurt the people around me. Whatever the reason that pushed me fifteen years ago, it doesn't matter anymore now.

"I see. That's why you went away; guilt." She says it like it's just natural for me to have a guilty feeling.

Probably spots my astonishment, she smiles. "I always know there's a human in here." She pokes one finger to my chest.

"Cameron, I didn't mean to hurt the girl. I wasn't looking for a cure for me. I didn't even sure I have _Creutzfeldt-Jakob_. I just, I just…. If Elizabeth has it, her chance to survive would be great. I could do something about it… I could…" It's like the dam that shields my feeling for fifteen years has broken, spilling its guts and destroying everything on its way. I rest my forehead on my hand, the images of Elizabeth's limp body play in my mind.

Suddenly she scoops me. Cameron scoops me in her arms, tightens her embrace and leans my head against her shoulder. "I know House, I know."

"I feel like I'm failing everybody. I should've listened to your warning, Wilson's warning, everybody's warning. I shouldn't have taken vicodins that night, I should have…"

She keeps me at arm length, staring into my eyes. "It's okay House, everything had happened for the best."

I doubt her words. I doubt that my mistake has constructed something good for myself, let alone for anybody else.

"If it makes you better, Elizabeth Lynch died six months ago. Her mother has let Doctor Albert, Foreman's Cedar-Sinai-neurologist-friend, to biopsy Elizabeth's brain. It showed early stage of _spongiform_."

I shrug; the fact that she really had _Creutzfeldt-Jakob_ surprisingly doesn't make me feel any better.

"Doctor Albert, Foreman, Kutner and Taub are doing some research on _Creutzfeldt-Jakob_. If it wasn't your idea, we probably wouldn't know that CJD could also attack children. They're making a lot progress; there'll be a vaccine for CJD anytime soon." Cameron squeezes my hands in hers.

"Good," I mumble.

"If you hadn't gone, Wilson and Cuddy would never get married. They were perfect for each other."

"That's not good," I purses my lips and she chuckles.

"Not for you but for them, it's good."

I roll my eyes and she smiles again. She moves to open the blinds, steady stream of sunrays entering the room.

"There's always sunshine after the storm House. There's always something good come out from every mistake" She turns around to face me.

"Quotes don't suit you," I back to my annoying mode.

She sighs and take the cup from my hand. "There's a lawyer and a nurse outside. They said they are here to bring you back to your parents' place. The lawyer even showed me a legal paper of your will."

"I told you I want to die cheap." I'm not surprised, I have this all planned; my initiate plan is to see Cameron for the last time and then my new ducklings will pick me up. I don't have a heart to tell Cameron that my nurse already has a pill that I will pop in my mouth whenever I feel ready to die.

"Are you sure you want to come back there. The hospital is better here and closer to Foreman's research too. If they find the cure you'll…" I shake my head to stop Cameron's speech.

"Let Foreman and his gay ducklings concentrate on helping the youngster. I've had enough."

"Okay, I'll help your overly sexy nurse and lawyer to prepare the transportation. How do you pay them anyway? Bodies like that must be expensive"

"Not everything comes with a price honey." I wriggle my eyebrow.

"Yeah, whatever." She gives me a peck on my lips and starts walking out.

"Allison!"

She turns around at the threshold. "Yeah"

"Is it good for you?" I cross my arms over my chest, measuring her reaction.

"Huh?"

"My runaway, has it bring sunshine to your storm?"

First she bites her lower lip, then she blinks and shifts her feet. "Yes it has." Her eyes are flaring with genuineness. "It has made me realize that some feelings stay the same after fifteen years."

"Is one of that feelings is love?"

She gives me nothing but a broad smile as she turns around and leave.

* * *

**=== Epilogue ===**

Betty; my nurse, Clara; my lawyer, and Cameron are at the front desk finalizing the papers to release me from the hospital. I wait in a wheelchair, sit slightly limp to my right side.

Suddenly a little blonde girl walking in front of me then stops abruptly as she sees me. "You're bending, you hurt your hand" She points at my right hand that trapped between the arm of the wheelchair and my body. "Here, let me help you." She tries to straighten me up by pushing against my body. Her backpack and lunchbox swing as she does so.

"It's okay. I can't feel it anyway, Stroke." I try to sound boring.

"Oh. I'm here to see my mom, she's busy." My eyes follow her forefinger. It is pointed to Cameron.

"You are Wombat's spawn?"

"Who is wombat?"

"Your daddy. He's an ugly wombat."

"Dad's not ugly, He's handsome." She looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Where's your Dad? Why isn't he here?"

She rolls her eyes, the same way her mother does every so often. "Dad's in Kangaroo Island. He build a hospital there."

"So you and mom will move to Kangaroo Island soon huh?" There's nothing easier than dig information from a little child.

"Nu uh, Mom and Dad are divorcing, me and Kyle will live with mom." I feel no shame to grin for her sad answer.

It is sunshine after fifteen years of storm indeed.

**FIN**

Reviews are sunshine:) So give me some


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